


The oldest song in the world was the first time it rained

by KerriLovegood



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 01:04:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14533332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KerriLovegood/pseuds/KerriLovegood
Summary: A little more than a month after the defeat of the Archon, Ryder returns to Eos, and sees rain there for the first time. Feeling like a kid again, she and Liam run out into the storm, full of laughter and awash with victory. And they surprise each other, like they always do.





	The oldest song in the world was the first time it rained

**Author's Note:**

> To Christine (FidgetyWriter) and Siana (ariatl). Maybe the real Andromeda DLC was the friends we made along the way. <3
> 
> An unofficial continuation of my fic, "We Are Such Stuff as Dreams Are Made On." 
> 
> This takes place just slightly after the events of the game, and features my Ryder, Aphelia. She is deaf in one ear, and can hear fine (for the most part), but knows sign language as well.
> 
> The title is a quote I saw on tumblr once, but I could never find the original source, so if anyone knows it, please share so I can credit them properly. As always, thank you for reading :)

“What out there has felt most like...” Scott asked, slightly sheepish on the 43rd day Post-Meridian,“well I guess...like a miracle?” He was laying weakly in what  _ used _ to be their father’s bed on what  _ used _ to be the Hyperion, skin still paler than usual, though he had been steadily regaining his natural coloring.

 

Aphelia felt herself soften in response, shoulders sagging slightly as she smiled pitifully from where she sat with her legs wrapped around a backwards desk chair, leaning forward against the metal backing. It had been a few weeks, and she could tell he was restless from the sterile walls of a rectangular room full of artifacts; it was an archaeology dig into a past that was too personal for comfort. Yet his body was weak and sagging as it raced to catch up with his anxious mind, so he remained with his father’s guns and paper books with worn, light leather down the spines. The Archon’s torture and the exertion to SAM had affected her brother more than he would say, and he was beginning an intense schedule of physical therapy. Aphelia knew his reluctance to voice the pain was less from pride and more from his worry of being a  _ burden _ to her. That was where she knew they were different: it would have been a thing of pride for her, she thought. And it even slightly was, because her own health had been unsteady in the immediate aftermath of Meridian.

 

And here Scott was, asking about miracles. From anyone else, she would have thought the moment heartbreaking coming from his fatigued bedside; it would have been a plea for the very  _ existence _ of miracles. However, Scott said it with that dreamy look he got sometimes, privately, and his face lit with a smile itching towards his former self. 

 

She wanted to say that what felt like a miracle was _ every moment I’m still alive _ , but knew he would think that was a cop out from a real answer. She considered, sighing as she slumped over in the stiff chair. It squeaked, uncomfortably loud in the quiet of the room. As she thought over her own definition of miracles, more practical than her brother’s, it still felt oddly romantic. Once she got over her own drama, the miracle was every moment of pure discovery and seeing the unknown. It was dipping into the sulfur-free pools of Kadara, standing at the highest peak she could find on Elaaden, feeling the Nomad start to glide away before gravity pulled it taut again over the ruins of H-047c…and…and...

 

“The first time it rained on Eos,” she sat up straighter as she practically blurted it out. Then, she jumped at a hiss as the door sprung open (it was the only door in the room, so it was not difficult for Aphelia to guess which direction the noise had come from). A weaselly looking human tech froze a couple steps into the doorway and seemed to shrink in on themself. 

 

“I-Oops!!” they yelled unnecessarily, dropping their datapad. Aphelia held up a peace sign casually, mouth quirking up to one side as she bit back a mischievous grin. The starry-eyed stares were something she still wasn’t used to, so she tried to have some fun with it, because it was likely only going to get more intense now that they finally were working towards the reality of those fabled Golden Worlds. 

 

After scrambling to the floor and retrieving the datapad, the poor, nervous tech dropped it again. Following the clattering sound, they swore a colorful and completely unique string of words and laughed nervously.

 

Turning back to her brother, Aphelia saw that he was looking at her expectantly. “I think someone just realized where they are,” she signed to him to avoid being overheard, rolling her eyes in amusement. “Or  _ who  _ we are.”

 

“Sorry, ma’am - sir! Ma’am and sir!” They called, finally having stood up again, datapad clutched protectively to their chest. Bouncing as they keyed the door open again, they practically dove through before it was even halfway open. Before the door closed again, another banging noise sounded, and she could only guess that the tablet had slipped free again.

 

Scott laughed. “Think they could figure out which Ryder is which?” He vocalized the question, having had trouble signing since waking up. His muscle movements and coordination were already vastly improving, but some days were worse than others, and she had happened to visit on a low day. He shrugged comically, then tried to hide the grimace that split across his face. “50/50 chance.”

 

“And we’re both dashingly beautiful, so it is a hard question,” she smirked. “Why haven’t they made posters with our faces on them yet? Because I, for one, jumped across hyperspace with the hope of one day being propaganda.”

 

“I’m sure you already are. So dreams really do come true,” Scott said, keeping a straight face. Aphelia had always admired his ability for deadpan humor, when she herself was such an open book. “But…” He shifted on the bed with a groan, angling himself to better face her. “You were telling me about miracles, not dreams.”

 

“An important distinction,” she conceded, digging her brain for some witty reply, but couldn’t even procure one as the thought of the story she was going to tell distracted her. She and Liam were, after all, in the business of dream-making in this 29th century fairytale of theirs.

 

“You mentioned rain on Eos,” Scott said, that glint returning to his eyes. “I can’t remember the last time I saw rain,” he admitted, frowning. While an innocuous statement, Aphelia couldn’t help but feel a little (likely incidental) pity at what was buried beneath the words. His memories had been fogged up, tossed around in his head by his coma and later the Archon; there had been multiple times in the past month where he had asked about a random, decades-old incident with various questions about  _ who _ and  _ why _ and  _ when.  _

 

She replied truthfully, casually. “That’s the thing, I couldn’t either before a couple half-hearted showers on Havarl months ago. I mean, it’s not something I ever thought to catalogue back in the Milky Way.” With a laugh, Aphelia added, “Although, you’re dorky enough you might have.”

 

“I’m  _ forward thinking _ enough,” he corrected her. 

 

“Oh my god, so you did!” Aphelia laughed. “I was  _ joking _ !”

 

“We never lived planetside much!” Scott said, raising his hands slightly in defense. “It was exciting for me every time, so I wanted to remember it!” 

 

She let the silence fall comfortably between them, as she considered how similar yet how different the two of them were. She had, after all, shared so much of his enthusiasm about things so many took for granted, but rarely slowed down enough to actually take note. All of her was so invested in seeking  _ the next thing _ , that she hadn’t been careful enough back then to note  _ this exact thing.  _

 

“I missed you,” she signed, not looking at him. The gesture itself was indicative of how special his presence was to her; there was no one else she could sign so easily and carelessly with, knowing she would be understood the first time. Liam was trying, and she loved him for it, more and more every day, but Scott had a decade’s worth of experience on him.

 

“Hey,” Scott replied, and when she looked at him again, he was slowly moving, upper body pushed up on shaking arms. He scooted further away from her, and then sunk back down onto the far side of the bed. Gesturing with his head at the spot next to him, he smiled. 

 

Nodding happily, she stood up from the chair, pushing it away without much force, and it slid aimlessly against the sleek floor. Flopping down beside him, the pillow fluffing up slightly before relaxing, she grinned. Her jacket and shirt beneath it rode up her stomach, and she awkwardly raised her middle so as to tug the clothes back down again. The mattress was more firm than she had been expecting, just as rigid as the one in her quarters on the Tempest had been when they had first boarded. It was another reminder that everything theirs was, first and foremost, Alec’s.

 

So she lay down next to her brother on her father’s bed, and she could have been eight years old again, telling Scott a scary story because he said he didn’t believe in monsters (but his trembling gave away his true beliefs). Now, she had a happy one to tell, and one that she had lived. There had been enough monsters. 

 

“So, this was...I don’t know, three weeks ago?” Aphelia said in faux casualty, blushing slightly. “Okay, it was twenty one days ago, because  _ yes, _ these are things I keep track of now.” Hearing Scott chuckle beside her, she continued telling the story to the ceiling, remembering the projection of the galaxy Jaal had shown her, and how the nebulas had pulsed in the air around them. 

 

Maybe that was what storytelling could be, too: showing someone else your view of things. _ See what Andromeda did to her? It made her a sap. _

 

“Eos was the first place I went from Meridian, because it was the first colony we established, and it felt like the ..poetic thing to do, you know?” she pulled a face she knew her brother couldn’t see, shrugging, “And August, the mayor of Prodromos, said it wasn’t the first day of rain - I’m not  _ that _ poetic, or maybe that lucky? Except...I totally am that lucky,” Aphelia sighed, biting back a grin, her cheeks were aching and she hadn’t even gotten to the story. “So anyway, it was the first rain for me. It was raining when we landed, and I rushed out the airlock without even putting shoes on...”

 

* * *

  
  


Her bare feet pounded against the ramp, and she felt the vibrations of another, larger pair of feet behind her. She didn’t needed to turn around to know that it was Liam running after her, but she did anyway, just for the simple sake of getting a look at him. When her feet hit the wet ground, she gasped, spine going rigid like an affronted cat from an old cartoon. The ground was cold, colder than she had expected, but not quite muddy yet. The cracked, dry ground was still greedily lapping up the rainwater, and the sand was slightly spongy. If it came down this hard for a long time, the settlement would be on heightened alert for mudslides in the next few days, but for now...

 

“Come on!” Aphelia called over her shoulder, racing out from the shadow of the Tempest. Then, the water hit her in large droplets that splashed ice water across her skin and she gasped again. Turning her head up to the sky, she spun in place, once, twice, and a third time, before grinning and stumbling a couple paces to the side, disoriented. Her bangs plastered against her forehead and her ponytail of dark hair sagged as the wet mass of her hair clumped together. When a stray drop fell into her open, laughing mouth, it was dustier than she remembered the rainwater on Earth being.

 

Liam’s hand ran down the length of her arm, and she let her fingers stray across his. “Never felt this excited about rain before,” he said, almost in disbelief at himself.

 

“ _ Never _ ?” She asked incredulously, batting her eyes at him. “Do you mean to tell me that you never tried to  _ dance _ in the rain before like one of those romantic old vids?”

 

“This is like, a Tuesday in London,” he said with a snort. His white Initiative shirt was clinging to his skin, the neckline pulled down over his collarbone, and she caught herself staring. “Grey and pouring, and uh...more grey. Miss the thunder and lightning of midsummer storms, though. This is a bit too tame.” Suddenly, he looked up at the sky and shouted teasingly “Where’s the  _ show! _ ?”

 

Aphelia giggled, stumbling into him and wrapping an arm around his middle for a moment. The euphoria of their victory at Meridian still made her feel like she could fly. Looking up at him, through the still shocking torrents of rain, she saw the same energy in his warm brown eyes. 

 

In an instant, she smirked, and said, “Guess we gotta make our own show.” Tearing away from him, spread her arms out and shouted, “All the world’s a stage, remember?” Then, she turned around and took off running away from the ship.

 

He yelled something she couldn’t make out. She kept running around the pond that was flowing over, reaching further and further up the sandy banks, and towards the settlement. Stumbling slightly on uneven bits of ground, made slippery with the downpour, she did her best to move forward. Unsure of exactly where she was going, she wove between the buildings of the settlement, past some of the colonists who were splashing in puddles like the storms had washed away everything until only children remained. 

 

Before she knew it, she was following the deep Nomad tracks leading away from the colony. The tracks were losing their shape in the rain, which struck her with an odd feeling of sadness for a moment. But, she supposed, it had been amazing they had gone months undisturbed before this point, like the footprints of Neil Armstrong on Earth’s moon that were probably still there even now, unless those Reaper things had blown up the moon, and...all life on Earth. It was probably better not to think about that for now, she thought, and kept running. Her foot sunk deep into one of the muddy tracks, making an odd squelching noise. 

 

Suddenly, the wind was blown out of her heaving lungs as Liam knocked into her from behind. “Shit!” his voice said as she swayed dangerously, arms thrown out to the sides as she attempted to regain her balance. Liam’s hands grabbed frantically for her arm, but it was no use with the ground so loose beneath her. 

 

As she lurched forward, already seeing her impact, she tugged on the arm that Liam was holding onto. “Hey!” he exclaimed as the resistance slacked on her arm and he tumbled forth with her. Attempting to catch her fall with her other hand, she slammed into it, pain rattling her wrist as her knees hit the mud a second later. 

 

Aphelia breathed deeply for a moment, panting heavily from all the running. The rain pounded a thousand rhythms unceremoniously into her back. Her hands sunk into the mud, one deeper than the other where the ground was softer. The water ran down her arms and tickled the backs of her legs. 

 

Pushing herself up and her knees beneath her, she sat up straight. Raising her hands to her face, blinking through the downpour, she saw that a dirty brown was worked into her palms and beneath her fingernails already. Pulling the wet mess of hair from her forehead without even attempting to undirty her hands, she turned and saw Liam standing up behind her. His white shirt was now splattered a dirty brown. 

 

The desert, made unfamiliar in the weather, stretched on in every direction. The walls of the canyons were just barely distinguishable as dark silhouettes in the distance as the rain somehow fell  _ harder.  _ The colony was behind them, and here they were, pioneers hardly two weeks out from a mission that had shaken the galaxy, falling in puddles like kids at recess. Her mouth fell open as she searched for words, and tasted the water that streamed down her cheeks. It was... _ wonderful. _

 

“You okay?” He signed at her, which she was grateful for, unsure if she would be able to hear him over the overwhelming roar of rain. Rubbing a hand over the wrist that had caught her fall, she nodded, unable to stop another grin from forming. And then, she was laughing, and he was too. 

 

“That’s not gonna be fun to clean,” she could feel herself talking loudly just to be heard, gesturing towards his shirt.

 

“Oh trust me, the hair’s gonna be worse,” Liam was talking loudly, too, but she still strained to hear him. “Gonna be wet for another six hundred years.”

 

Right in front of her, then, he reached down with both hands, offering to help her up. Pretending to look shy, throwing a dirty hand over her face in faux embarrassment, she finally grabbed his hands and leapt to her feet. As she stood, she cringed, feeling the mud drip down her bare legs. 

 

Neither of them released the other’s hands. In fact, Liam pulled her closer as he squinted to see her. One of his hands went to her waist, and he held the other to the side of his chest, interlacing his fingers with hers.

 

“What are you doing?” Aphelia asked, free hand touching his own at her waist inquisitively. He began to sway awkwardly on the spot, the ground squelching and splashing beneath them.

 

“Like you said, about the old vids…” He smirked, drops of rain running down his lips. She thought about kissing him, but wanted to hear his answer. Then, he leaned forward and down slightly, and she thought he must have heard her silent want, until he paused by her ear and said in a stage whisper, “Let’s dance, Pathfinder.”

 

It had been months since he had kissed her at this very settlement on the sidelines of his soccer game, sealed with the promise of “getting serious.” It had been months, and there she was, feeling her cheeks heat up despite the cold numbness around her. All possible objections of “I can’t dance” were silly, useless, even, because what did it matter? Neither of them had shoes on, and they were both covered in mud. Who gave a  _ shit _ about Gene Kelly swinging around a lamppost in the rain, when they were... _ this? _

 

She pressed herself closer to him, their baggy wet shirts clinging together strangely. “How forward of you, Mr. Kosta.” 

 

And that was it. He laughed something damn close to a giggle, and then they were off in a series of awkward steps. Both of them struggled to remember some pubescent primary school days in a sweaty gym being taught a simple waltz, and stepped on toes in the process. Both of them attempted to lead at first, before an odd standstill where Aphelia conceded for the simple fact that she was too short to see over him to lead.

 

Slowly, their steps synced, and the minutes flowed together. They splashed in wide circles through mud ground, often steering towards the puddles, just to kick up the water at each other. At one of them, he removed his hand from hers in the air between them and placed it on her waist as well. Just as she cocked her head in confusion at him, he lifted her off her feet, and she yelped slightly before smiling. Once her feet bumped into the soft ground again, she jumped slightly and narrowed her eyes at him, as though challenging him.

 

“Lost without your jump jets, Pathfinder?” Liam teased loudly. 

 

“Just spin me,you fool!” Aphelia replied, throwing both of her arms around his neck, and he obliged. He spun her in a full circle and then some, her legs knocking into each other in the air. Laughing something closer to a shriek, she closed her eyes and grinned. As he slowed, stumbling just slightly, she furrowed her brow and focused on the strange energy (not unlike the rain) of her biotics. Dragging them forth just slightly so she felt the static hum rush through her, she descended slowly, mystically, to land gracefully on her toes. She wondered why she couldn’t even land so smoothly in a firefight, but felt suddenly warmed against the onslaught of rain, as if a flare had been lit inside of her body. 

 

“Show off!” Liam said with a laugh. He pulled her closer again, and said, quieter, cheekier, “And you always bring the  _ heat. _ ”

 

She threw her head back laughing, and wondered what it felt like to hold another person using biotics. If she had used anything more powerful, it likely would not have been so pleasant, but she was cautious. Already, the heat was flooding out of her, being replaced with the chill of the storm. Reaching a hand up to his shoulder, and another to meet his again, they picked up their steps where they left off, traversing slightly downhill, absently following the tracks of themselves many months earlier.

 

Her teeth were starting to chatter, and her hands and feet were slightly numb, but she hardly cared. Once they both came down from this little fairytale of theirs, she was sure that the wetness would be nothing short of miserable. And yet, she couldn’t stop smiling.

 

She looked up at him and the soft brown of his eyes beneath strong brows. His cheeks were covered in a dark stubble, and she knew he had gone a couple days without shaving - knew, because she had been there, because they lived so closely together and it was hardly ever stifling. Water spilled over the edge of the tight coils of his hair, and in response he shook his head erratically. A spray of it freckled her cheeks, and they both erupted into laughter at the absurdity of it.

 

He spun her then, and she stared at him across the lengths of both of their outstretched arms, imagining if and when they would do this again. The rain had relented slightly, and the pounding of it seemed to disappear altogether as she slowly spun back to him. Everything was still, and, pressed up to his chest, feeling the thrumming of his heart, he dipped her low, meeting her lips with his. Her hand travelled across his strong shoulders to the soft skin at the back of his neck. It was a watery kiss, both of their noses cold, and yet she wanted more. 

 

More, always more. There had been something in his eyes stirring before he had dipped her, something bright, like he had found that thunderstorm he had wanted so badly. The softness of it all, the shortness of breath, the dipped kiss...it took her back to the sunshine on Meridian on Victory Day. It took her back to the smoldering of his eyes then, the boldness of his words and timidness of his laugh. He had said something then, and she had never gotten an answer. As he raised her back to her feet, he pressed his forehead to hers, and they breathed. 

 

She opened her eyes first, mind racing in several different directions, body full of a static different than biotics. “Hey...we should get married.”    


“What!?” His eyes popped open, and his head jerked back slightly.

 

Suddenly, she was nervous, realizing just how sudden and strange her words had been, standing in the mud. “I mean, we haven’t talked about- about Victory Day, when you said that thing, Liam. You know  _ what thing.”  _ She nudged his chest, smiling. “And basically the whole rest of the Cluster has been talking about it, so I figured we should too.”

 

There was a long pause where he seemed to be processing, before he shook his head in disbelief, and she was glad to see he was grinning. Then, he looked at her sheepishly. “Aphelia, how do you manage to be one step ahead of me in  _ this _ ?”

 

That was not the response she was expecting. “What do you mean?”

  
Raising a hand to her face, he cupped her cheek. “That thing on Victory Day -- even if I panicked, I meant it. But you and I both know that was not enough for what you deserve with a proposal.” He pulled his hand away to scratch the back of his neck, embarrassed.  “So...I’ve been planning on another way, a real way, to ask you.”

  
  


Her jaw dropped, and then she jutted out her chin proudly. “And I beat you to it!”

 

“Which, of course you did. Don’t know how I didn’t see that coming, you’re always so…” he trailed off, and his voice got quieter. “Well, I don’t think I have to say what my answer is.”

 

Her heart fluttered, but she shook her head  _ no _ slightly. Poking him in the chest, she said, “Your answer, Liam Kosta, should be that you’re still going to ask again.”

 

“Yeah?” he breathed.

 

“Hell yeah,” she grinned, and shivered slightly, stepping closer to him again. “I think you need a bit of a challenge, because I don’t know how you’re going to one-up yourself asking on a live broadcast across the galaxy after stringing up the Archon like a damn puppet.”

 

Liam wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug, not a single part of them dry anymore. “Oh, don’t worry, Pathfinder, I’ve got some ideas. Some alright ones, some  _ really really _ good ones.” He looked down at her, pausing for dramatic effect and kissed her forehead, the wet strands of her hair. “And  _ nothing _ that I’m going to tell you. Complete surprise guaranteed.”

 

Aphelia didn’t want it any other way. “I look forward to it, Mr. Kosta.” Looking up at him from in his embrace, the rain falling flat on her face with a tiny smile on her lips, she whispered, “And for the record...my answer will be yes.”

 

“No spoilers!” He shook his head stubbornly, unable to hide his own smile.

 

She chuckled, pressing her ear to his chest and felt the rise and fall of his breath, pressing on bravely like the old song of the rain that had travelled across galaxies.

 

* * *

  
  
  


“So anyway, we showered for no less than an hour after that, and Vetra was annoyed we used all the hot water...And...yeah.” She finished lamely.

 

Back on the Hyperion, laying on the bed, Aphelia’s cheeks had grown increasingly pink as she told the story. She had been ready to hush her brother’s teases and laughter, but he had waited patiently through the whole story. Scott was always a good listener, and maybe over time he had also grown more serious in the part, or maybe she had forgotten that.

 

The silence drew out for a while too long, though, so finally she lost her patience and turned to look at her brother. He was already rolled over, looking at her with a mixture of emotions that she couldn’t completely figure out. And then, he grinned. 

 

“So... you're engaged?”

 

Aphelia wanted to bury her head in the pillow behind her. “No, Scott! I'm engaged  _ to be engaged.  _ Should I tell the story again?”

 

He narrowed his eyes at her, reading her. “Engaged to be engaged, and he knows what your answer will be.” Turning back onto his back and looking at the ceiling, she heard him shrug. “That just sounds like engaged to me, but I get it. You guys are weird. Any idea what his 'plan’ is?”

 

“Not a clue.” It was the truth. The last time he had a surprise for her, it had been jumping off a cliff on Eos with some questionable jump jet mods, so she felt that it was safe to say he would always surprise her...and then she would always jump first, dragging him over the edge with her.

 

He turned back to her, then asked thoughtfully, without a hint of irony, “Do you think that Liam’s...the one?” 

 

She had never given much thought to the idea, to the cliche of it all, but her brother’s earnestness made her consider it. “Honestly? ...He's the fucking love of my life, Scott. He really is. You asked about miracles, so...there it is.”

 

Scott studied her for a moment, eyes smiling more than her mouth was. “I’m so happy for you, ‘phelia.” He turned over onto his side, propping himself up against his arm, clearly concentrating on his balance. His resemblance to their father was uncanny in the low lights of the room, which cast the sharp angles of his face into stark relief. “You know, Andromeda has changed you -- in a good way. It’s like… You’re so sure about what you want now, and so open with how you care about people.”

 

Aphelia shifted uncomfortably, looking at the wall behind her brother before returning her gaze to his kind eyes. They hadn’t talked to each other this seriously, this openly in a long time. She was waiting for a joke to present itself, from his mouth or hers, but it didn’t. So instead, she nodded slowly, thinking of how it had taken this long and two galaxies for any of the Ryders to just  _ say what they meant _ to each other. “I guess so. New beginnings and all that.”

 

He seemed to read her mind. “Yeah, I think all of us Ryders needed a new beginning. I hope...well, I can’t wait to get mine.” Scott reached out and nudged her shoulder playfully, his mouth quirking upwards in a way her father’s never had. “But as for you, I think that Liam is a really good guy.”

 

And then she was grinning again. “He is. He really is.”

 

He smiled sweetly, before his expression sobered, a change so rapid it took a moment for her to register it. “But it’s just…There’s  _ one _ thing that you have to address.”

 

Aphelia paused, concerned, wondering what in Andromeda Liam could have done to worry  _ Scott _ of all people. “What is it?”

 

“His favorite Blasto film is the third one!” He said it in that perfect deadpan of his before breaking into an obnoxious, satisfied grin.

 

She rolled her eyes. “Nobody’s perfect, Scott.”

 

“Except Blasto,” he said proudly, pointedly.

 

“Except Blasto,” Aphelia agreed. 

 

Even her brother’s bad jokes couldn’t take the smile off her face, or maybe because of Scott’s humor she was so happy. She thought of all the months she hadn’t been able to hear his laughter, and then of that little family that waited for her on her ship, and finally of the way Liam had looked at her right before dipping her that day in the rain. Scott had asked her about miracles, and here they were. Here they were.

**Author's Note:**

> Liam's favorite Blasto film being the third one is a nod to FidgetyWriter's fic "The Bet." :)


End file.
